


Just The Tip

by teamcap4bucky



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 07:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamcap4bucky/pseuds/teamcap4bucky
Summary: What could go wrong on a Friday night in a pub with a bunch of drunk people?  Everything, that’s what…but that’s what the Avengers are for, right? Saving people is a full time job.





	Just The Tip

The pub was pure insanity tonight. The patrons were loud, rowdy, and for some reason, way more rude than normal. Your regulars could barely get to you behind the bar, becoming more and more annoyed every time some young college punk would kick their chair, bellowing over their shoulders for you to refill their mug.

Nights like these were the worst. You knew by the end of this shift that you would not only be exhausted, but most likely pissed off by the lack of tips that you knew you would be shorted. Drunk people were terrible. They were sloppy and belligerent. They never tipped well, and they always seem to think that “their friend” had settle up the bill before they left. It was nights like these that you prayed someone rich would come and take you away, pay all of your debt, take you around the world, and save you from this life.

“Come on, dude!” You jump back as a glass of beer splashes across your jeans, the result of a local kid animatedly telling a story to his friends.

“Chill out, it’s only beer. Relax already.” He leans over the bar, putting on his best puppy dogs eyes. “Do you think I could get another one, though?” 

“No. I told you if you spilled another one you were done. Sorry, that’s the rules.” You pick up the glass from the counter, and throw it into the sink.

“Okay, whatever…bitch.” He goes to turn away but is grabbed by a thick hand who forcefully turns him around to you.

“Tell the lady you’re sorry, pay your tab, and get out.” You didn’t even have to look up to know who’s voice it was. 

“I just wanted a beer, bro.” The kid grunts out as his stomach is pressed into the counter.

“Yeah, and she just wanted to serve people who weren’t assholes, yet here we are.”

You smile sweetly as the kid reaches back into his pocket bringing his wallet to the counter. He thumbs through a couple of tens dropping them down, then sliding over a few singles to your side of the counter.

“Whoa there...what is like, like two percent”? I think we can do better than that. I’m pretty sure I saw another ten in there.” 

“But she…”

“But she served your ass with a smile, and didn’t hit you. For that she deserves to be paid. Hand me that tip jar, Y/N.” 

Clint was by far one of your best regulars. Why he ever came to this junky old place was beyond you. He said that he loved that it was old school, not to flashy, and the people were down to earth. He came in every Friday, sometimes Saturday if he had gone on a tough mission that week, or was just overly anxious.

He sent a quick smile and wink your way as you reached over the counter, handing him the barely filled jar from your hands. 

“What is this?” He asks as he looks into your jar, filled with barely fifteen bucks and few piles of change.

“It’s been a rough night.” You say, pointing over to the large group at the other end of the floor. “They were already drunk when they got here.”

“Well this won’t do.” He pats the kid on his back, and gives him the nod of approval. The kid goes to leave but Clint pulls him back.

“Leave the pizza coupon, too.” You laugh under your breath when the kid opens his wallet, pulling out the small piece of paper, throwing it into the bar.

“Can I leave now?” He asks.

“Yes, and go tell your friends not to even think about dipping without paying their tab, and leaving a tip.”

“If they do, I’ll find each and every one of you. I have the time, resources, and the money to follow through with it. I get bored easily.” You grab the tip jar back laughing as Tony pushes the young man off back towards the door. “Go forth young man. Go use your brains for good, or...get laid or something. What do you kids do these days? Don’t tell me, just get out and go do it.” He waves his hand, already over the interaction. 

“Nice of you to join us, Mr. Stark.” You greet him with a sassy smile, handing him his drink of choice.

“I hate when you call me that.” He says smirking over his drink. “You make a good drink, kid.”

You point your finger his way scolding him.

“I hate when you call me kid.” 

“Okay, I’ll stop. As long as you don’t mind me calling you something equally as embarrassing.”

“Okay then. I’ll stop too, as long as you don’t mind me spitting in your drink while I pour.”

Glaring at each other in a small standoff, you wait for him to break, and you know he will. 

“Ugh, fine. You win. It won’t happen again, squirt.”

You point at his drink, motioning your fingers for him to give it you. 

“You need that refreshed?” Clint chuckles as he watches you swish your mouth back and forth.

“Alright children. That’s enough.” 

You hear a voice call out to you at the other end of the counter. Another patron waving money at you, asking for a drink. 

“Excuse me gentleman, I’m being beckoned for.”

“Good luck...and bring back nachos!” Clint yells out as you wave your hand in the air. 

As you refill the entirety of the large parties drinks, you can’t help but cringe when you hear a small argument from behind you. Everytime these college kids showed up there was a damn fight. Drinks will be thrown, hair is pulled, and it always ends up with an ice pack on a bloody nose, and you spending half the night online ordering new bar stools to replace the ones that were smashed over some idiots heads. Everyone pulls out their inner Chuck Norris when they’re drunk. It’s so obnoxious.

Only tonight, you’re not as concerned. Say what you will about Tony and Clint. Sure they liked to mind their business and talk shop while they drank, but if there was ever a need for them to step in, they did, no questions asked.

“Do we have a problem over here, boys?” You lean forward, hands tight on the counters edge. “No fighting, is that understood? You want to have words, take it outside.”

You glare at the two and wait patiently for them to break away from each other. 

Clint watches them walk away, turning to you slowly.

“Whooo. Something is in the air tonight, huh?” He raised a brow in annoyance looking over at Tony.

“Seems so.” He chucks back his drink and hits it against the bar, sliding it over for you to catch. “Scotch me, love.”

“Another round for the man in red. Barton?” You nod at the archer who lifts his bottle. 

“Yes, please.” 

Clint’s face lights up as one of your co-workers drops his plate of nachos in front of him.

“So good.” He does a small shimmy on the barstool as he starts to place the first nacho in his mouth.

“Y/N, I think that group of chicks that were downing all the apple martini’s just walked out.”

“What! Ughhhh, damn it...that was like a hundred dollar tab. What is happening tonight?”

You drop your head in frustration onto the bar. 

I love my job, I love my job, I love my job.

“Awe, cheer up buttercup, the night will get bet…”

The sound of your yelp was barely heard over the music playing and the sounds of the voices surrounding you. As you lift your head slowly, Clint grits his teeth. You were soaked, beer dripping through your hair, down your shirt, ice covering the counter.

You look up to see the two jackasses from earlier standing in front of you arguing, pushing each other’s chest, grunting like apes.

“Could this night get any worse?” You shake out your hands, grabbing a towel from the back of your belt. 

“To be honest, I don’t see how it could.” Tony shakes his head, offering a hand in cleaning up the bar where he sits.

“Get off of me!” You barely have a moment to get clean before your two guys are at it again, pushing and shoving, one of their backs pressed over the counter.

“Hey! Uh huh! Take it outside!” You push them both off the bar but they’re much bigger than you, not to mention they have have that brute strength that all intoxicated people seem to get well after they’ve had a bit too many.

Just as one goes to swing, the other one ducks from the blow. His hand finding the edge of Clint’s nachos, sending them full speed into your chest. 

“Awe, nachos…” Clint whines out, as you give him a death stare. 

He promptly stands up, Tony joining him, each gathering one of the boys. Dragging them out by their ears, hair, and collars.

You stand there completely stunned by what had just occurred.

As Clint and Tony come back in, sitting back on their stools, they both stare at you unsure of what to do next.

“I stand corrected? Apparently, it can get worse for you.” Tony states as he hands you a few napkins, as if it would actually help.

“Clint! Are you kidding me right now?” You eyes bulge as you look down to see Clint, nacho in hand, scraping the cheese and sour cream from the skin on your chest.

“What? I’m starving, and their paid for. Five second rule only applies to floor food, not neck food.”

You look to Tony shaking his head in disapproval.

“You are a complete animal, Barton.” 

You look to the side at your friend who covers her mouth. 

“If you laugh right now, I might cry.” She hands you a clean rag and helps pick off chunks of cheese and bacon.

“Do you have another shirt at least?” 

The look you gave her was one of a solid no.

“You know what we have to do, right?” She looks at the clock and you follow her eyes to it.

You pick up the tip jar and start to count the funds.

“How short are you?” She presses when she notices your face drop.

“Fifty bucks.” You whisper. 

“Take my half tonight. You earned it.” She pushed the jar towards you and you push it back.

“No way. You have been dealing with those assholes all night.”

“You have, too.” She pulls out the cash and shoves it in your pocket. “You’re my best friend, I’m not going to let you leave here tonight empty.”

“No.” Pulling the money back out you hand it back to her. “Keep it for now. Let’s give it the hour, and I’ll reassess.” 

You purse your lips, hating yourself for what you were about to do. You needed the money badly, but you knew it wasn’t coming tonight. Better call it while you can.

Placing your hands on the bar, you pinch your mouth tightly, and close your eyes. 

“Last call!” 

The grunts, complaints, and yells that come from the surrounding crowd were almost ear piercing.

As you wipe down your top with a fresh wet cloth, you can’t help but to notice two men staring in your direction. 

“Something on your mind boys?” You lift your brows as they look back and forth from each other to you.

“We weren’t eavesdropping, I swear…” Clint mumbles out before being interrupted.

“I was.” Tony raises his hand, unashamed. “How much do you need?”

“Nope.” You shake your head and turn towards the liquor filling another order. 

“That’s not a number.” He argues back. He sighs, rubbing his hand down his face tiredly. “Look...you can either tell me, or you can let me guess...but you know what’s going to happen if I do. I’m going to guess to high, you know that, right? Then I’m going to have to dig through your personal life, find which bank you use…”

“I’ll have to override the system and hack to get your account numbers…” Clint adds in, agreeing with Tony.

“...I’ll transfer an ungodly amount of money, you’ll find out, get mad at me...probably spit in my drinks, ban us from coming…”

“Then I’ll get mad because I can’t get my nachos, and you know I only like them the way you guys make them here…” Clint leans back folding his arms, already pouting.

“Then I’ll have to hear all about it and buy the bar to keep him happy. I mean, it’s just a whole process...and to be honest, it's a pain in the ass, what with all the paperwork and stuff. If you can help me out, do this old man a solid and just tell me how much you need, it would make my life…”

“Our lives…”

“A hell of a lot easier. Plus, Pepper hates when I buy things spur of the moment. You wouldn’t want me to fight with Pepper...would you?” Tony blinks his dark brown eyes your way while Clint puffs out his lower lip.

“I hate you both. You know that, right?”

“Yes.” They collectively say.

“How much?” Tony requests yet again. 

“I need fifty bucks to pay for my car. It’s in the shop. Another ten for an Uber to get home.”

“Done!” He slaps his hands on the bar and reaches behind his back for his wallet.

He slides a crisp hundred your way, and you promptly slide it back. 

“Uh huh. To much.” 

He slides it back and sighs when you cross your arms and refuse to take it.

Clint smirks as he watches Tony slide it slowly towards you again, and you back up to avoid contact with it.

“Just reach out. Gimme your hand, just...just lean forward, touch the bill...why are you not taking it?” 

He stares at Clint and looks completely bewildered. 

“Barton...what’s happening here? What do I do? I’ve never had someone not take free money from me.”

“You heard the woman, it’s too much.”

“Okay, think of it as a investment for tomorrow night’s shift. In case we have a replay of tonight’s events.” He snaps his fingers before he points to you, proud of his idea. 

“Sort of a...back up fund if you will.”

“I won’t.” 

“Alright, princess…”

Clint grits his teeth, sucking a breath through them and shakes his head, knowing that would not sit well with you.

You open your mouth to respond with fire in your eyes, but Clint reaches forward to stop you. 

“How about we discuss the terms of the money, and then figure out where we went wrong...yeah?”

They both look at you and wait for your response.

“This is to much. I need sixty tops, and I WILL pay you back.”

“I don’t need you…”

“I pay you back or no deal. I make my own way. I always have. I won’t take money that I didn’t earn. That’s the deal, take it or leave it.”

“Fine. I can respect that. It’s honorable. Although, I do think you’ve earned it with the cheese down your shirt and all.”

Clint starts to agree but becomes distracted as a group of girls pays their tab, leaving a few quarters in the tip jar.

He turns to look at Tony, and Tony rubs his eyebrows in disbelief. 

“We have work to do my feathered friend.” He pats his shoulder, turning your way with a devious grin.

“Get ready to earn your money.” 

Your eyes widen as he jumps on top of his barstool and stands proudly on the counter.

“Clint...what is he doing?” 

“I hope you can handle a crowded bar.” Clint cracks his neck, standing up shaking his limbs. 

“Clint...what are YOU doing?”

“Who wants to take tequila shots with the some of the Avengers!” Tony yells out between his cupped hands.

The masses turn toward the bar, their eyes bulge when they see Tony with a bottle of tequila, and a bucket of limes. 

Like a celebrity sighting at a premier, patrons run towards the bar excitedly screaming for shots.

“Alright you little delinquents. Here’s the deal. You pay for your shot up front, you pick your avenger of choice. You tip ahead of time. The bigger the tip, the better the service. The top five tips of the night will get to lick salt off of one of our bodies. Are we ready?”

Tony looks down to you and nods, laughing as the look of shock is still clearly plastered on your face.

“You may want to keep track of those big tips, dear.” 

You glance to the right at your already giddy partner in crime as she pulls out a notepad and a pen.

“Umm, who’s first I guess?” The roar the crowd makes you laugh as they line up three to four deep.

Tony was three shots in. Clint, six as they requested that the music be turned up so that they could get people to dance. 

It had been forty five minutes, and your excitement grew at the sight of the tip jar filling.

“I think you made your quota.” Clint leans over the bar and giggles. “Everyone seems to be behaving. You want to take back that last call and see where the crowd takes us?” 

“Yeah, okay. You may want to slow down though. You still promised the top tippers some one on one time. Don’t forget!”

“You two want to keep chit chatting...or should we get back to making and taking drinks?”

Twenty more more minutes in and your bottles are just about empty. You motion to Clint, who now is covered in lipstick of multiple shades from neck to forehead, victim of a million selfies from all the girls in town.

“Is it time?” He yells across the bar.

Hitting Tony on his arm, he grabs his attention and motions to the now almost bare bar.

“Alright alright. I’m afraid it’s that time of night, kiddies. Before we empty this joint, let’s all take a minute and thank the lovely young lady here for providing us with this evening of fun. Thank you, Y/N, it’s been a pleasure.” 

The pub raises a glass to you as you bow thankfully to the crowd of people. You then begin to chuckle as Clint jumps to the top of the bar, asking for the notepad with the highest tippers on it.

“Now comes the fun part. I need...what do I need...I need...someone to tell me who the best tippers were so we can get this party started for those lucky enough to join Tony and I in one last shot of shenanigans before the night ends. I’m way too drunk to read this, or add for that matter.”

“Gimmie that, you hooligan.” Tony grabs the notepad, reading off the top five names with the highest tips given. They ranged from two to four hundred dollars, one willing to pay five hundred if she could take a shot of of both of their necks, stomachs and Clint’s biceps, to which they both agreed.

The names were called and they all lined up, shots poured, limes given and salt shakers passed.

“Have fun, guys!” Laughs could be heard from all parties as Clint would shiver and giggle each time someone licked the salt off of him. Apparently the Avenger was quite ticklish, which was a surprise to all. Tony would just smile, yelling for more salt or bigger limes after each one, encouraging them to have fun, shouting how it was a once in a lifetime experience.

They had completely turned your night around. Your nightmare of a shift had been turned into one of the best nights you had ever had. 

As you watch the last patron leave, your best friend locks the door and flips the closed sign over.

“So, what’s the grand total?” Tony questions, wiping his neck down, offering Clint a cloth, too. “You missed a few spots there, Legolas.”

“That one’s not going anywhere, Barton.” You point, holding your stomach as you laugh. That’s a bite, and that one is a hickey.” 

“Yeah, she really sucked hard.” 

“That’s what he said?” You and Tony both mumble under your breath.

“Better have been worth the teasing I’m going to get from Nat all week.” Clint points to the jar, making grabby hands for it.

“How much did you need for tonight?” Tony looks up from under his eyelashes.

“Sixty at least.” 

“I’d say you’re good, because you made about a thousand over that.” 

“Shut up!” He reaches his hand in the air for you to hit.

“Do Barton and I know how to handle things, or what?” Tony leans back in his chair, folding his arms, quite proud of himself.

“You do, you do...and I am eternally grateful. I don’t know how to thank you. You guys saved me tonight.”

“How about free drinks from now on?” Tony asks as he tosses a peanut from the bar into his mouth.

“Free Nachos?” Clint requests with hope on his face.

“I’ll have to run that by the boss, but he might be okay with it after tonight.”

As you wipe down the counter the phone rings suddenly, all of you curious as to who could be calling anyone at this ungodly hour.

“Ooooh, It’s Pepper! Everyone be cool, be cool! Hey sweetheart, what are you doing up at this time?” Tony pulls out the charm like no other, blinking his eyelashes, giving the most innocent grin.

“You did not just buy a bar!” She yells out, the facetime conversation heard by all.

“You’re just dreaming, sweetheart. Go back to bed and we’ll talk in the morning…”

“Tony…”

“I love you, Pep..”

“Don’t you hang up!”

“Good night, Honey.” He presses the button, smiling wide into the screen and places his phone gently on the counter.

“You are in so much trouble tomorrow.” Clint laughs into his glass, clinking it with Tony’s as they down the rest of the leftover shots.

“Yup.” 

“On the bright side though...free nachos!”


End file.
